


Diary of a cynic soldier in the war against rainbows and sunshines

by Mike0the0mic



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-09-07 15:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16856986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mike0the0mic/pseuds/Mike0the0mic
Summary: Dear Diary,Its another normal day in the frontline, we stand in our trenches for hours, get our asses kicked by a bunch of magical mid-pubescent girls, and I just saw a lieutenant use what used to be private Dwaines left leg to hang his equipment (Rude, considering he's still technically alive). Just like a said, another quiet day in the frontline.I hope that maybe today will be the day that I get shot and escape this glittery hell, but I know I'm not that lucky.Signed and Sealed in blood-Vet





	1. Entry #1

Let me set things clearly. No matter what or who tells you this isn't a war of good vs evil. There is no glorious charge against the evil enemy nor a magic solution that ended things peacefully. No two heroes in opposite sides who overcome their difference and found a way to reconcile the two warring armies…. Actually, I lied about the last one, that thing really happened. But this tale is not their story, it’s mine, no, it's ours. The shock trooper’s stories, or as we are most commonly known as cannon fodders. You know, like the useless grunts in child books that at times seems like their whole purpose is to make the hero and the villain look better in comparison.

 

It’s a reputation that we might as well have earned if I’m being honest, but really what else can you expect when our daily routine involve getting our asses kicked in practice so the “elite” can show how superior they are to the bosses, then getting our assess kicked again for real this time by a bunch of magical mid-pubescent teenagers princesses who can literally say “Fuck physics” and bend reality to their fucking rainbow-flavored will. After that getting our assess chewed by our “elite” captain for failing once again like every day. Then we take whatever we have left of our asses and drag it back to base to sleep and repeat. That’s a normal day, if we get the unpleasant pleasure of dealing with the tall one, (what was her name gain? Chee-tah? Shi-Rai? She-.. The amazon) then boy are we in a world of pain. She has personally send me to med-bay twice, once with a broken foot and a mild concussion and another time when she accidentally threw me down a cliff. (Thanks god those trees broke the fall instead of my back, still lost my right kidney because of that.)

 

Thankfully, ever since my squad was assigned border patrol I have not meet her again, not in the battlefield at least, just a couple of rebel patrols and the occasional princesses. You know, a quiet day like any other… a bloody day just like any other.

 

Speaking of my squad, they are a bunch of ragtag recruits from every corner of the empire.  First we have Croky, a reptile beast-man? Beast-woman? It’s hard to tell, that can never shut his/her/its mouth. Shorty, as you can guess a very short dudette with one hell of a temper, can also fix any of our equipment with scraps she finds in the battlefield. D-man, in charge of demolition, met him a couple times before joining the squad, never have heard him say a single world. May-Day, third in command, team medic, hate the nickname and is hopelessly in love with our captain. And speaking of our captain, Baron von Redrat or Retard or something like that. Stopped paying attention after the third minute of his introductory speech. He is supposed to be from a long line of military commanders and went to the most prestigious military academy the Horde had, never seen or been near active combat ever. If you are wondering, no those aren't their real names, and no I didn't actually bother remembering them.

 

 As for me? This is maybe my sixth or seventh squad. I’ve been serving almost three years in the frontline by now so I’m probably 18 or maybe 19 years old if my math skills aren't that rusty. My current squad mates call me Oldie or Vet, even though most of them are older than me, hell some even double my age. I like Vet, it has a nice aura of badassery around it. Way better than some of the nicknames my old comrades gave me like Panda-guy or Vomit-ado. Anyhow because of my broad time in the front I’m somehow the one with most experience in the frontline in the squad (and isn't that just sad?) and was made second in command much to May-Day's charring.

 

As much as I want to tell you that we were a group of badasses commandos that went behind enemy lines to kick ass and chew bubblegum, we were not. I told you before, we were the cannon fodder.

 

 No special high risk mission, just patrol duty. No special tactics, just charge forward and if you are still alive by the time the enemy get their shit together and start fighting back then retreat.

 

Sounds boring? Lackluster? It is. 

 

For all the propaganda the recruitment office like to feed us, the true enemy of any soldier aren’t the rebels or the princesses but time and boredom. And boy do we have plenty of those here.

 

You would expect being so close to the enemy would mean constant fighting but that’s simply not true. Don't get me wrong, we still lose about two dozens of men daily just in this sector either to the enemy artillery or the occasional skirmish we have with an enemy patrol if we wandered too far into no man's land, but one eventually get use to that with time. What you should really be afraid of are the offensives. The real ones, not the abridged version the generals like to tell the PR department back home.

 

See invading and conquering its kind of The Horde’s thing, but when your enemies have access to magic and can order nature to literally shove a tree up your ass things tend to get kinda tricky. So what’s the answer High command came up for this problem I hear you ask? Well I don't really know, they never bother to tell me. All they did was gather all the regiments in the area in a single point and tell each squad to charge forward a couple times, make the enemy retreat and then dig down a trench. Again and again and again. We usually succeeded, (if you call trading a couple hundred lives for a few meters of land winning) unless a princess was nearby, then it was always a total failure.

 

You know with all the high and mighty those girls like to think they are; I honestly wonder if they consider their hands to be soak with our blood. By my second year in the frontline I’ve already figure out that The Horde didn't gave a shit about us, but I’m curious about if we mean so little to them that in the end they see us just like some faceless grunt and not as something alive. They could us barbarians for the war but I’ve seen as many towns of our side being razed to the ground just as theirs. They call us merciless, but I can still remember when that little girl no older than 11 froze the base I was assigned too in the middle of the night. I lost my first squad that day, I lost my friends, my family. That base was filled with nothing more than injured soldiers returning from a particularly heavy tolled failed charge, plus some guards. **_AND SHE KILLED THEM ALL!!! Over what?! A temper tantrum?! A show of power?! A̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶i̶n̶s̶i̶g̶n̶i̶f̶i̶c̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶u̶s̶ ̶d̶o̶e̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶?̶ ̶I̶t̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶ ̶d̶o̶e̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶n̶t̶?̶ ̶A̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶d̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶u̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶g̶u̶y̶s̶!̶ ̶F̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶y̶p̶o̶c̶r̶i̶t̶e̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶-!̶_**

 

…

…

…

 

Sorry about that, lost control for a bit, still do that every once in a while…

…

 

Great, now I’m apologizing to my diary…

 

You know? …. The princess may call themselves the paragons of light, but as far as I’m concerned they are as deep and covered in filth as we are in this bloody shit creek. That or they are so shallow that they see war as a high adventure fantasy or something like that.

 

It’s not like our side it’s better. Like I said before I seen enough villages burned to nothing in both sides to know we are all going to hell when this thing gets over. Also, we are called the freaking “Horde of Evil” for fucks sakes! Someone in PR should really get fired.

 

Anyhow I can hear Redrat yelling outside, I guess they found another enemy position me must overrun or face losing this trench, again. I’ve been wondering if there's someone on over there that is also writing in his diary, maybe calling it journal? Yeah that sounds better.  I wonder if they are writing the same things as I am? Maybe, who knows?

 

I will probably write again after I return… unless I died in that case whoever is reading this I must warned you I borrowed some equipment from D-man and have rigged this book to explode when a random page is turned. So please close this book and go away. ….

 

Or not, I will probably be too dead to care anyway….

 

….

….

….

 

Unless the base was overrun and you are rebel reading this, in that case please ignore the previous warning and please go to page 124.

 

_Signed and Sealed in blood_

_-Vet_

….

….

….

….

 

….

….

….

* * *

 

_Page 124_

 

__

__

 

 


	2. Entry #2

Dear Diary,

 

The fact that I’m writing this clearly indicates I survived the latest attempt to charge the enemy and overrun their position. So hooray for me! Also, Croaky died so... not hooray? At least it was quick, Lucky sob. I honestly should feel worse for losing a fellow soldier but the fact I had caught Croaky multiple times trying to eat my boots or many others personal stuff from the squad meant that neither me or the rest of the team would have missed him to much.

 

As for the charge itself? Apart from Croakies death there isn't a lot to tell. As usual we waited for the signaled and charged. Took the enemies by surprise so we managed to advance a considerable distance before they start attacking us. Captain Redrat only managed to advance a couple meters before he tripped over a branch and knocked himself unconscious for the duration of the battle. He was awarded a medal of honor for being injured in combat.

 

After May-Day was forced to drag our “ _fearless leader_ ” out of danger, the squad managed to push back the rebels and take positions. Then as usual everything went to shit. First some low High command failed to spot and/or communicate the existence of a _second base_ on top of a bigass-almost a mountain- hill that overlook the first base we were attacking. Also this second base was filled with at least 50 artillery type mages, if the number of magical mortar shots fired at us meant anything. So to be clear: Enemies with the high ground + mortars + us out in the open = A lot of casualties on our side.

 

Luckily, this wasn't my first time getting bombarded and definitely won't be my last, so as soon as I heard the distinct sound of giants burning rocks magically appearing in the sky I ordered my squad to spread out and duck. They all listened, except for Croaky which stood still and asked “Where?”. Those where his last words.

 

After the barrage ended we managed to secure the base long enough for reinforcements, now lead by the just recently conscientious Captain Redrat and May-Day, who pushed the remaining enemies back to the hill base. Later, after a command post was established and a perimeter secured. Plans began to be made to capture the second base tomorrow, you know the one on the top of the heavily fortified hill. I hope High command isn't stupid enough to believe that a frontal assault will work this time right? I mean they can't be that stupid…. Right?

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #1_

 

Dear diary

 

Let me tell you, High Command are **_FUCKIN MORONS!_**

 

Who orders a full fucking frontal assault against a heavily fortified enemy position that have the freaking high ground! Do they even care about how many lives are they wasting?!

 

Of course they don't…, Anyway as you can infer by the fact I wrote attempt on top of the page, we failed to take the base. Doesn't mean we are finished thought, Redrat has already informed us of the next attempt tomorrow morning. I honestly hope things get better.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #2_

 

Things didn't get better, in fact they got worse. Enemies reinforcement arrived and managed to drive us back the hill with our metaphorical or (literal in some cases) tail between our legs.

 

Also Croaky’s replacement arrived today. It was his/her/its sister/brother/sibling. Yeah, apparently her kind kinda reproduce by laying eggs and Croaky has like hundreds of relatives, almost all in the military. I decide to baptize the new recruit as Croaky Two: Electric Croakaloo, Croaky 2 for short. Hope “she” (Croaky 2 clarified after some questioning) last longer than her sibling.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #2.5_

 

Okay, this really shouldn't count as an assault seeing we were the one being attacked for once. The rebels decided to make a counter attack in the middle of the night. They underestimated how paranoid D-man could be and how many mines he could place in a short amount of time. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to deactivate all for tomorrow's attack.

 

Also, fun fact. We found out today that Shorty is so short that she had problems defending the position because the trench was too deep and she couldn't reach the top. We had to stack a couple crates beneath her so she could fire properly.

 

 _Quick note:_ Never, ever make fun of her size within her hearing distance as stated before Shorty has one hell of a temper. On a completely unrelated note Private Kator was rushed to the med bay to surgically remove a metal tipped boot inserted so far his ass he needed to been taking out of the frontline.

 

Not sure if that’s a way I want to take to get out of here.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #3_

 

Croaky 2 died after stepping over one of D-man’s active mine. Another sibling was sent to replace her. Croaky three: The Croak knight returns, Croaky 3 for short. The assault was also a failure. Why do we keep doing a frontal assault? Also Redrat somehow earned another medal.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #17_

 

We have lost Croaky 3 and all from Croaky four: The Croakening to Twenty-seven: The Croak for peace (God bless his dumb, dumb soul) by now. At this point I’m sure High-Command knows this position is unwinnable. The rebels added a freaking lava wall for fucks sake! (Coincidentally that's how we lost Croaky Fourteen: Croakment day).

 

I been telling Redrat to tell HI-COM to call this thing off. As usual I was ignored.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #58_

 

Dear diary,

 

It’s been 3 months and a half since we started this offensive. We keep getting and losing Croakys left and right that I don't bother naming them anymore (haven't seen enough movies). Redrat is also getting more medals for some reason, soon all it will take for the rebels to defeat him will be a giant magnet.

 

Moral is in an all-time low even though HI-COMM keep insisting victory is just a few charges away. If they are so confident, why don't they come here and do it themselves?

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #95_

 

Two regiments mutinied after the failure of the last attack. We spent the last 7 hours fighting our own side. The leaders were captured and executed. HI-COMM is sending to someone to investigate our leading officer and checked the troops. Good luck finding him. He left after attempt 7 to visit a relative mansion who was a couple days away and haven't returned yet.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

….

 

_Attempt #106_

 

Finally! Someone with common sense!

 

It only took a couple of hours after the HI-COMM officer arrived to reach the same conclusion I’ve been telling Redrat for almost a half a year by now. The base was un-take able. Perhaps we had a chance at first. But our constant frontal suicidal assault has depleted our reserves and supplies and given enough time for the enemy to reorganize their defenses and cover weak points we could had exploited if we did proper recon instead.

 

Our leading officer was found partying in his relative house after a five days’ search. He’s being taken away for court martial. I’m just glad everything is over for now.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_


	3. Entry #3

Dear Diary,

 

It’s been a few weeks since we retreated from the second base or “Green hill”  base, as High command has officially designated it. I must say things gone way different as I expected them to be after such humiliating defeat. Somehow, someway, High Command managed to sweep the whole failed offensive under the rug and instead treat us as “heroes” of the Horde and praised the evacuation as a tactical brilliance the like has never seen before, as part of a kind of “moral victory”. Let me tell you, there wasn't anything tactical nor brilliant about that evacuation.

 

For starters the artillery barrage that was supposed to cover our retreat started half an hour earlier than expected so the soldiers on the far back of the column were hit. Second, we had to destroy a lot of ordnance that we couldn't take with us by order of High command but some idiot, looking at you Croaky thirty-four: Weekend at Croaky’s, blew up our food stock instead. So not only did the enemy gained a couple of new guns but we were also starving, guess we’re getting closer to finding out what the Croakies taste like. Third and final. Our transport arrived late, so we had to stay like sittings ducks, surrounded by enemies, until they finally came.

 

Thankfully after all this debacle was over, the squad was assigned to a much calmer frontline for some R&R. The peace and tranquility only lasted a couple of days, when Captain Baron von Redrat earned another medal after being grievously injured in a hunting accident trying to slay the mythical and fierce beast known as The Bunny. Well to be fair, it was a 110-pound carnivorous bunny, but still.

 

As a result, I was made temporary captain of the unit until our Captain make a full recovery. My first order as active leader was to promote D-man to my second in command, again much to May-Day chagrin. I’ve nothing personal against her, she has enough wits to be captain of her own squad someday if she ever gets tired of being the medic, but from the whole squad D-man is the only one I’m sure that has active combat experience and that’s all I care for now at least.

 

You see, the battle for the “Green hill” base taught the squad that war wasn't all rainbows and sunshine’s, not that they expect it, but still they had very romantic notions of war. Glorious charges, epic duels and valiant heroes returning home with sweet victory were ideas that the recruitment office like to sell to all recruits. War is nothing like that, not anymore at least. War is hell, my squad has learned it. Now it’s my job to teach them how to survive it.

 

Proper soldiering: fire discipline, spacing, not letting your stupid ass get flanked, ALWAYS keeping your helmet on, are all things that are taught in basic training. So while I still ran training drills every morning in order to maintain discipline and a proper shape, I also prepared a special course to help my squad to get use to what they were to expect in the frontline. First, with the help of D-man, I rigged a couple of explosive to explode safely at random hours. This way the squad would get used to sound of constant enemy artillery and respond accordingly. This led to the unfortunate incident where Shorty’s stash of junk she used to repair stuff was accidentally blow up. After seeing her incapacitate D-man with a steel-tip kick to the balls, I decided to negotiate a truce from the safety of the top of some carefully stack crates where she was unable to reach me.

 

Once they were accustomed enough they could still accomplish their given ask even during an actual enemy attack, I asked some mages from a nearby regiment to demonstrate the different magical attacks used in the frontline by rebels, so they could identify and counter them in the battlefield. It went mostly perfect except for the time Croaky’s latest sibling, Croaky forty-two: The Croakhiker’s guide to the galaxy, was accidentally hit with a spell that turned it into a human. It now refers to itself as Horatio, even though she is clearly a female human and speaks with a very pompous accent. It’s really weird.

 

After that, I took my squad to the local black market and taught them how to properly supply themselves, because High-command will sure as hell not. Winter was coming, and I’ve seen enough soldiers freeze to death, specially the cold blooded ones, before even reaching the battle due to lack of a proper uniform. Our armors usually fare well in either hot or cold temperatures, but after a few months of fighting it usually needed some… improvements if the user don't want to freeze or roast itself to death. On the upside I’ve discovered that Horatio’s quite the fierce negotiator, managing to secure all the supplies we needed to fix our armors using just a quarter of the budget I gave her. Then she proceeded to kept the remaining money and hide it somewhere I couldn’t find. I will let it slide for now considering it’s actually Redrat’s money that he left in case of emergency.

 

Speaking of Redrat, I’ve received a letter this morning informing me of his return. He will arrive soon with new orders from High Command. I don't like this, there’s been rumors going around a about another offensive, a huge one. Already the other squads have received the transfers order. Thankfully due to “ _my lack of formal and certificate training for leading_ ”, my squad wasn't called immediately for duty. Hope things get better.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

…..

…..

Dear Diary,

 

Redrat’s arrived this morning with the orders from High Command. The rumors were true. A huge offensive is on the away. The entire regiment has been ordered to joined with the others near the border. This army will invade a nearby kingdom and lay siege to the capital until the main army arrives and anex the territory.

 

I’ve also heard that General Maximillien Cardoni is in charge of this army. I must confess that this fact terrifies me more than anything else I’ve learned this past week. Don't get me wrong; General Cardoni is one hell of a commander. He earned the nickname The Generalissimo by never losing a battle so far in his extense career and has a moustache so magnificent rumors tells it causes every woman in a ten-miles radius to start ovulating.

 

The problem is that while it is true he is invictus in the battlefield, the troops under his command always face at least 60% percent of casualty rates due to him not believing in things such as cover, artillery, suppressing fire, trenches or anything else that doesn’t involve frontal assault.

 

Seriously, I heard he once ordered the troops under his command to charge at an enemy who was on the top of an actual mountain. Those poor bastards had to climb while under heavy enemy fire. How the hell did he won that battle? I have no idea. All I know is that soon it will our turn, hope luck’s on our side. Probably not, otherwise I would’ve been shot by now and got out of this hell, but one can dream right… That or I was indeed shoot and I’m paying for my sins, guess I’ll find out for sure eventually.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_


	4. Entry # 4

Dear Diary,

 

I honestly don't know what to write. There hasn't been a lot of action ever since we received the orders to head towards the border. In fact, ever since we joined the others regiments, not a single rebel has been spotted in the vicinity. Not surprising, considering our forces equals to thousands by now and we are only the tip of the spear. The real army will still take a few months to arrive but they triple our sizes at the bare minimum.

 

On other news, today we had the, pleasure? to meet The Generalissimo in the flesh. The rumors were true; his mustache is indeed magnificent. Turns out he had personally request for our unit to join the regiment under his command. Apparently he heard of our “valiant” effort and “brilliant” tactics in the battle for the Green hill and decided we were the kind of “brave” young soldiers he wanted besides him when he personally storms the capital. You heard right, Personally. Storm. It.

 

It came as a surprise to learn that The Generalissimo who will be known as “El Mustacho”, was a firm believer of leading the troops from the frontline. Honestly, my first clue should had been the fact that El Mustacho didn't own a single piece of range equipment except for a six-shooter revolver that he had modified by turning the barrel of the gun into an extendable knife and also removing the bullets in the cylinder and replacing them with cartridges that allow to charge the blade with lightning, fire or any other elemental load they had been prepared with. Really badass in melee, but not a lot of range. I must admit that his insistence of not sending any soldiers under his command to face an enemy unless he was there to led them, has earned him my respect for a man of his rank (a fact that I hadn't thought possible after my first six months in the frontline.). Still doesn't change the fact that now were not only in an army that was the tip of the spear but now we are the tip of the spear of said army.

 

So to recap, we are now headed into a hostile kingdom, we are literally the first in line, led by a general which his weapon of choice is a badass no-range gun-knife and his moustache and probably has to face an army of rebels with a bunch of magical princesses? Yeah, we are fucked, so same old, same old.

 

_Si̶g̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶Se̶a̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶Bl̶o̶o̶d̶_

 

Wait a moment, I had forgotten about the latest addition to the crew.  His name is Nicky (It actually isn't, but I was a little more shell shocked than usual, because we will literally be the first ones to face the enemy to remember his name.) and he is a fresh recruit that was assigned to our squad. It seems that once we joined the others regiments High Command was informed of the lack of reptilians Croakies in our squad and assumed Croaky 42 aka Horatio had died in the way and send the nearest replacement available. To be fair we never truly informed them that she was turned into a human but a pair of extra hands are always welcome.

 

Still, even thought he was clad in full armor that covered his face I could feel that his eagerness to fight so big it could only come from someone that has never seen combat before, but even then there is something else I find fishy about him that I don't like. That kind of demeanor he exuberates seems oddly familiar but I can't point out exactly where I have seen it before. Again I must say, I don't like this.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

_…_

_…_

 

Dear Diary,

 

I learned a couple of things today; First: Nicky stands for _Nichole_. A fact I learned today after D-man & me accidentally walk into her room as she was about to change. Second: for someone that's only over a head and a half taller than Shorty, Nicky can throw one hell of left hook seen how he knocked a couple of D-man’s teethes after said incident, I wisely made a tactical retreat while she was distracted.

 

Third: She’s also very proficient in the naturally womanly art of kicking guys in the balls. This time the victim was Redrat, who was as oblivious as me about Nicky’s gender. After informing him of our findings he turned towards Nicky and said that it was an honest mistake as she didn't look like a woman under all the armor.

 

This somehow wasn't the right thing to say and was rewarded with a kick to his jewels. Then May-day came out asking what had happened, after we explained the situation she turned around kicked Redrats in his now red sack and left. Then to topple this off a High Command female officer that was passing by and asked why our captain was crying on the floor, after explaining for a second time what had happened the officer took a look at the still crying Redrat and deliver another swift, this time with a high-heel, kick to his crotch before leaving.

 

Thankfully by this point El Mustacho arrived to inform us that we had almost reached our destination. He just needed to take a look at Redrats crying form to deduced what had happened. Turns out these incidents are terrifyingly far way more common than I expected outside the frontline. He basically told us that he learned from personal experience that it was way easier to wear a protective codpiece all the time like he apparently does than to avoid all the triggers that causes females in a extreme high stress environment, such as the fucking war we are in the middle off, to go into a righteous female fury. He also offered us to put us in contact with the guy who supplies him with said codpieces. Needless to say we said yes.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood with a new shiny codpiece_

_-Vet_

 

_…_

_...._

_…_

 

Fuck, FUCK, _FUUUCK_ , **_FUUUUUUUUUCK!_**

 

Dear diary, I fucking knew! I knew I had seen that fucking blind optimism and eagerness of Nicky’s before. I saw it inside of me just as I enlisted, inside of my friends who joined besides me, inside of every other fucking idiot who lied about their age to join the military.

 

Nicky’s underage, barely fucking 16 and already in her way to an almost certain death. Honestly, could she had done anything more idiotic?!

 

Of course, I know I’m a hypocrite. I was probably younger when I enlisted but she doesn't need to know that. We are already too far into enemy territory to send her to go back. The march must go on and it seems Nicky will also. As soon as the main army arrives to relieves us I’m sending her ass home where I hope her mom (yes I confirmed she still has one of those) will give her a spanking so hard the whole squad would be able to heard all the way into the new frontlines. Until then I will pray to all the deities I know (excluding Papa Croaky cause I know he ain’t listening) to allow her to evade the fate of my childhood friends and classmates that joined the war right beside me, and that Nicky is allowed to grow old unlike the thousands of kids that this war denied the chance.

 

_Signed and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_


	5. Entry #5

Dear Diary,

Today the last of the regiments arrived at the headquarters located just a few miles away from the enemy capital. I honestly expected for the journey to be way longer and perilous, I mean we are literally an army of thousands marching without a break through unfamiliar territory. I counted at least five different times where we could have been easily ambushed and routed. Instead, not only didn't we find any kind of resistance but also a clear a way straight to the capital, Seriously not even a cloud bloking the sun during the whole way.

Turns out that our target was really close to the border, like really close. The capital is literally the first city we need to cross if we want to head inland and is somewhat visible from our side of the border. Now, I’m not a military expert but I really doubt the benefits of having the place where the Royal family lives and is the center of your kingdom so close to the enemy. Not that I’m complaining, it makes the matter of re-supplying and getting reinforcements a lot much easier for us.  

Speaking of reinforcements, with all the current regiments in a single place I managed to catch up with some familiar faces I hadn't seen since the war broke out. I must admit that I didn't expect to meet Kat of all people over here, last time I heard of him he was on his way back home after a princess induced avalanche took away his left leg. Before you ask he isn't actually a cat-man, it’s just that everybody back home call him like that because his mom used to adopt every stray feline that she found near the house, her record was a total of 38 cats at the same time in the house.

Anyway, after the initial reunion (which included a demonstration of his now mechanical leg), Kat decided to introduce me to his squad. His captain came from a family which had an historical rivalry with Redrat’s family hence for ironic reasons (the best kind of reasons) I decided to name him Bluerat. They showed their mutual disdain for one another quite clearly as soon as they were introduced by trading barbs and other insults, using their own squad’s doings to assert their superiority. Apart from the captain’s dick measure contest, the members of the squads got along pretty well. Lucky, an old red haired soldier was a veteran just like me with a tendency to injure himself in the battlefield but somehow always managing to survive. May-Day was having a field day speaking with Val, her medical counterpart in what I’ve called Blue squad, while the rest of us spent the rest of the day chatting with the other members of Blue squad (including their two Croakies: Croaky 43: Big trouble in little Croaky and Croaky: 44: Death Croak).

Once the night arrived, me and Kat sneaked away in order to update our lists…. Oh right, I haven't written about the list yet.

Basically the two of us come from the same small town within The horde territory near a bunch of other equally small towns, it was the kind of town where everybody knew everybody and military services while not mandatory was extremely “encouraged” by parents, teachers, government officials and members of the military ever so convincing with the wayward youth. Basically everybody with authority so it was no surprise when basically the entire youth population between 15 and 22 signed up when the war broke out. At first we were all assign to the same battalion as was the norm back then, but after a few battles High Command learned the hard way that having same-town battalions meant that an entire generation of a town could be wiped out in a matter of hours. After that, they scattered us all across the army, so we decided that each one us would carry a list which the others names so we could keep track of who was still kicking and update each other when we met again.

It took a few hours to update our list, because Kat was sent home while he got used to the new leg, his was a little outdated but he got in touch with some of the families who received the official statements about the fate of their loved ones. Turns out me and Kat are the only ones not listed as dead or MIA.

Isn't it funny?

I know our home wasn't that big but taking into account all the towns around …

There were a bunch of us, we all enlisted. The Kermen brothers, Small Pattu and his gang, Dog breath Maklen. The Sussy twins, Suzanne and Susanna. Date them both and never could tell them apart.

All of them gone. Just like that. No more hiking to the lake, tipping cows or setting things on fire just because.

My classmates, my neighbors, my friends… Even those I disliked.

All of them gone in the span of three years….

At least Mum & Sis are well.

…

Why it’s so fucking rainy tonight?

Why does the rain taste so bitter when the droppets hit my mouth?

…

I really hate this war.

 

_Sign and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

 

Dear Diary,

Today we finally arrived at the capital. Before the siege officially starts El Mustacho has arranged a diplomatic meeting with the royals in hopes of taking the city without bloodshed. I will honestly take off my uniform and dance naked in the middle of the Royal Palace if that work. Redrat & Blurat along with the other captains has joined him in his diplomatic envoy leaving us with the grunt work of actually getting the siege ready.

That means spending hours digging trenches, building walls, digging a trench then building a wall inside of it just because. Usually I would complain about the menial work, but because of El Mustacho firmly believe that booze and sex are the worst enemy for any disciplined soldier and the subsequent ban of the two, work is the only thing I got to take my mind away from the fact that Kat & me are the only ones who will return home out of everyone in the town who volunteered.

If we even return….

...

...

...

H̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶o̶l̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶m̶uch̶ ̶I̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶war̶? ̶

 

~~**I̶ ̶F̶U̶C̶K̶I̶N̶G̶ ̶H̶A̶T̶E̶ ̶I̶T̶** ~~

 

S̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶, ~~the ̶dreams ̶~~ a̶r̶e̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶t̶ ̶

Note: Stop apologizing to my diary.

 

Anyway, changing the subject to a slight less depressing one, I wonder how much will the ban last. It's not the first time a general tries to impose this kind of ban to their troops and will certainly not be the last.

What the generals always fail to realize is that this war sucks.  Any soldier who stops and think for about 5 minutes about where he is and why he is fighting will come to this realization.

The trick High command came up to combat this issue is simple: keep the soldiers busy. There is no time to think about how you and your friends are dying needless and horrific deaths for a piece of land you’ll probably never see again all to fuel the war economy your entire society is based upon if you are too busy either getting drunk, getting high, blowing your load, all previous three at the same time or avoiding getting killed by the rebels during battle.

The problem with the last one is that during a siege there aren't many battles. We kinda dig a few holes and build huge wall around the place and starve them down. Eventually, if no reinforcements arrive, the situation boils down to two possible outcomes; One the starved enemy surrenders or Two: the starved enemy attacks. Either way, good for us bad for them. Either way both take time.

And if you take: time + nothing to do + nothing to distract yourself = plenty of time to think about stuff or as High command like to call them mutinous thoughts. Plus, soldiers tend to get a little… “reckless” without an outlet to expend their frustration.

Quoting Big Bob, may his soul rest in peace and not in pieces like his body, about what happened the last time the ban was placed: “Take away our freedom and we will probably get drunk, take away our booze and not even a hundred years will be enough to rebuild what we destroyed”. Needless to say, that particular general retracted the ban a few weeks later and that was only booze. No sex either? At this point May-day is seriously considering dragging Redrat towards the nearest tent when he comes back and shatter his pelvis with the amount of pent up sexual frustration that poor gal has. I’ll probably slip her latter the key to Redrats codpiece and help the squad distract El Mustacho.

God knows that at least someone around here needs to get lucky, certainly won't be me. Otherwise I wouldn't still be stuck in this glitterly hell.

 

_Sign and sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the lack of updates during the winter holidays but I was busy spending time with the family. Thanks to Quadzilla for beta-reading this chapter. Hope you guys & gals like it.


	6. Entry #6

Dear Diary,

 

The battle hasn’t even started and we already had a casualty on our side. It was of course no other than Redrat who was diagnosed by May-Day with a mysterious case of shattered pelvis. It was obvious by the glow on May-Day’s face what had really happened, but thankfully with the liberal use of Shorty’s hammer and some of D-man’s explosive on Redrat’s codpiece the squad managed to fool El Mustacho by telling him that Redrat was injured in a top secret recognizance mission.

Not only did the Generalissimo believe our bullshit story but also awarded Redrat with a medal for going above and beyond duty behind enemy lines. He also received about 3 months of Rest & Recuperation effective immediately…... Lucky sob.

 

Me and the rest of the squad were assigned under Bluerat’s command (I honestly don't know if that's better or worse) for the upcoming battle that is supposed to start in a few hours.

 

Hope me and the others survive this….

 

I will still rig this thing again to explode if a random page is turned just in case, one can never be too careful.

 

_Signed and Sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

…

…

…

 

Dear Diary,

 

It’s weird for me that I’m writing this entry right here, right now, considering I’m technically in the middle of a battle, “The battle of The Seven Colored River” as the guy besides me is saying, but that's not really important right now.

 

First, today I learned the reason the Royals were very comfortable building the capital of their kingdom so close to the enemy border. Turns out their capital is surrounded by a shit ton of natural barriers. Mountains on both sides, a thick forest in the back, and as mentioned above The Seven Color River right in front of us.

I’m not going to lie, that river is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen but I call bullshit on the people that say that that shit is natural. In fact, I bet Kat half of my food rations for the duration of the siege cause no way a river that is right next to a MAGICAL kingdom full of magical TEENAGE princesses, has 7 different colors without some kind of interference.

Anyway, back to the topic, seeing that there was currently only one place where we could attack, El Mustacho decided to divide our army in two main groups. The “Climbers” & The “Chargers”. The Climber’s job as their name implied was to climb the mountains surrounding the capital in order to reach the forest on the other side and open a second front; while The Chargers, led by El Mustacho himself, job was to distract the enemy by constantly doing frontal assaults until the capital was completely surrounded. Guess in which group I was assigned to.

Shorty D-man was assigned to the Climbers as they needed all the combat engineers and demolitions experts they could find in order to make the tracks the rest of the army would use to communicate between the two fronts.

The remaining soldiers of the Red & Blue Squad were assigned to the Chargers and at first light we bravely charge against the walls of the capital, tore them down and earn a glorious victory!!!…. Or at least that was El Mustacho’s original plan for the day, not even five minutes in the offensive The Chargers faced their first problem with The Generalissimo’s plan. The. FUCKING. RIVER!!!

 

Let me remind you, while we were a huge army, we were only the tip of the spear. We were almost all shock troopers. We have no artillery, no air support and most important in this case: NO naval support.

We don’t have a single boat to cross the river, not even a small raft. AND ALL OUR ROAD/BRIDGE BUILDING ENGINEERS WHERE SEND TO THE DAMN MOUNTAINS!!!

So we are all currently just standing awkwardly in front of the shore while the enemy watches us on the other side of the river.

 

 At least they have the decency of not shooting at us while we get our shit together.

... And of course I spoke too soon.

 

_Signed and Sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

 

_...._

....

....

 

Dear Diary,

 

Finally, after three weeks El Mustacho managed to solve in his own words the whole been cock-block-by-the-river situation. I won't bother writing the details of his “BRILLIANT” plan but it involved the incredible cunning move of calling back some engineers.  
After that, said engineers sensibly suggested that instead of a ten carts wide bridge suited for imperial march as El Mustacho originally wanted, we cut some trees and built a makeshift dam in order to reroute the river. Which would be way faster and would prevent us from being under the constant rain of enemy fire for months.

 

I’m really questioning the decision of our “beloved” commander of moving the river _behind_ us, but every time I asked El Mustacho about it, he would puff his chest in pride and tell me that “It was better this way, our soldiers won't think about retreating if there is nowhere to retreat except for the front.” 

Not sure if that’s how it’s supposed to work, but hey I’m just a simple soldier who doesn't know better. With the river not longing cock-blocking us to victory, the real battle will begin soon. I’ll probably write about it when I come back... If I come back.

 

In case I don't, you all know which page to go to go and fuck yourself.

 

_Signed and Sealed in Blood_

_-Vet_

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I dont know why I wrote this. My first fic for She-Ra (and also in AO3), hope you enjoyed it. It's meant to be a one-shot unless you want more of it. Thanks Quadzilla for betaing. You can head to my profile in FF.net for other of my stories.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/~mike0the0mic


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